


"Kill"

by sinner_san



Category: Gangsta. (Manga)
Genre: M/M, Necrophilia, i'm sorry i wrote this at 2 am and thought it was fine to post it, oh yeah this is sorta kinda ooc btw, sin sin sin, tragedy i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 16:04:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5254616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinner_san/pseuds/sinner_san
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few years later, Alex moved in with the Cristiano family. This leaves Worick and Nicolas alone together in their small place. However, the toxicity from Celebrer shortens Nicolas' lifespan more than anticipated, and the Twilight is soon on his deathbed. The events that transpire quickly after that are more than just unexpected, which result in a twisted and horrific ending to the Benriya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Kill"

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry in advance, oh my god...
> 
> You have my condolences.

Scruffy black hair, large strong hands, and youthful appearance.

 _'Damn Asians, they don’t fucking age, do they?'_ A bitter chuckle slipped out of Worick’s lips as he thought, ' _He doesn’t look a day over 25, and yet…'_

The gigolo couldn’t bring himself to admit it. He and his Twilight partner, they didn’t have much time together left anymore.

 _'How long has it been?'_ Worick thought as he turned a corner, on his way home from a job. Every day, his mind drifted to the topic of time eventually. It’s inevitable, like the dirty looks he gets caused by his secondary job as a hired gun, ' _Over 20 years now.'_

_And 5 since he acknowledged his feelings._

Butterflies came to his stomach and Worick frowned. What the hell? Is he suddenly fourteen again? Dangerously obsessed with a man… A Twilight at that. He’s thirty-five now, but his feelings are still the same.

He didn’t want to go home. Didn’t want to face his dying partner. That by itself is too much for him to handle by himself after Alex chose to move out.

Worick stopped at the doorway, knocked on the rough and ragged stone wall despite there not even being a door to open, and sighed. He invited himself in, walking up the flight of stairs and bracing for reality to hit him hard once more.

When he walked into the familiar room, he first noticed the sickening stench of vomit. Then wheezing. A single blue eye wandered around the room, searching for a familiar face. When he saw Nicolas, his eye wasn’t met with a pretty sight.

The Twilight’s fragile figure was twitching on the ground, and there was an empty bottle of pills rolling around on the ground.

“Nic… I told you not to overdose… It’s going to shorten your lifespan even more.” He didn’t care that overdosing is practically suicide anymore. Nicolas overdosed on a daily basis, so something like this is absolutely nothing. He picked up the bottle of Celeber, tossed it into the trash can, then proceeded to pick up the deaf man and drag him onto the couch.

“Doesn’ mat’r…” The garbled speech was incomprehensible as ever, and Worick (despite living with the man and working with him for ⅔ of his life) barely understood him. Nicolas tried to put on a smirk, but he’s weakened to the point where it’s just a pitiful and faint smile, “Jus’ let me die anyway… Make the pain shorter-”

The Twilight was interrupted by a loud slap. Mixed emotions, ones that Worick thought he no longer had the ability to feel, swirled within him like a hurricane. Sorrow, guilt, rage. They’re all but positive feelings.

Man, Worick was really out of it today. That day; his favorite shirt was ruined once again, his client was the violent type (the sort that’s into BDSM, which isn’t anything Worick has never seen but he’s not into that sort of thing), and now he comes home to see the man he’s in love with wasting away and telling straight to his fucking face that he wants to die.

“This is an _order_ , stay alive for as long as possible.” He commanded in a low voice. There was a brief pause as Nicolas raised an eyebrow in surprise, shooting Worick a look that said "Really? You're doing that contract holder thing when I'm on my  _deathbed_?"

Nicolas’ smile vanished and he turned his head. His arm, which was laid across his rising and falling chest, slid down skin and dropped down off the edge of the couch Nicolas was laid on. He wheezes, and coughs out blood. Using some of the very last strength the Twilight had, he held up his thumb and poked it with his other index finger to sign the very first word he learned: Kill.

Worick understood what this meant, and shook his head, “Sorry, partner, I just don’t have it in me.” At first, it was said jokingly and sounded playful, but this cheerfulness turned into overwhelming sorrow when the grave reality hits him that his lover is literally dying. The thought was enough to drive him delusional, and it did.

Nicolas nodded and turned onto his side with immense difficulty. Worick estimated that the Twilight had two days at most.

“Hey… Nic…”

No response.

“We can die together… Right?”

Worick felt something in his mind snap at that moment, and he took off his eyepatch to reveal the unhealed burn over his eye. He gave the eyepatch a light peck, and let the light breeze take it, the fabric gently lifting off his fingertips. He took shaky breaths, and smiled coarsely in that proud yet broken way of his.

Off in the distance, Worick felt like he were having a flashback. His life flashing before his eyes. Alex singing, the vision in his left eye turning blood red as he was burned, his entire life being taken away in one night, and more. An irritating ringing sound blared through the man’s ears as he picked his old black handgun off the counter. Nicolas’ eyes enlarged to the size of saucers, but he calmed down.

The Asian didn’t protest, and he simply closed his eyes peacefully when the gun was pressed to his forehead. He mouthed a silent “thank you”. Worick turned his face away to conceal the coming tears. This is really too much for him… When he heard three words, his heart dropped and shattered.

“I love you.”

The words were clear and very comprehendible for something that Nicolas said. Worick laughed loudly, and he knew that Nicolas was just trying to make their departing meaningful. The laughter turned into labored breaths of suppressed bawling because after all, even a gigolo like Worick had feelings. No, Worick didn’t have them from the start. It was only for Nicolas that he felt this way, but he’d never say that to the other man’s face.

“Nic… I’ll meet you in the afterlife. Even there, I’ll make you suffer… I’ll make you suffer tenfold for this.” The words came out between shuddery breaths of Worick holding back sobs. Delusions, his memories, all flooded back into his sight. The last one, the one before he pulled the trigger, was when he first met Nicolas. He recalled the words he spoke the night when Nicolas slaughtered his entire family. He remembered them well.

What a dull way to end things.

He pulled the slack off the trigger, and then tightened his finger to finally…

Pull it.

Blood splattered on the man’s clothing as his lover died with a smile. Worick kneeled down by the corpse, slamming his gun onto the ground. He licked his lips.

“Itadakimasu…” He whispered as he placed a chaste kiss on Nicolas’ forehead. The latter’s skin was still warm. He moved his lips to the other’s, lovingly pressing them together. As he did this, he slid his hand under the corpse’s shirt, feeling the warmth on his own cold hands.

It’s as if Worick died instead.

The thought of it sends a strange shuddering sensation down his spine, and he worked Nicolas’ dark green shirt off and slides the latter’s pants off. He straddled the body, and presses his hands onto the corpse’s chest. The body is getting colder now, but he doesn’t care. This is one last thing he’ll do before he departs on with his partner. He slowly moved his hand to the remaining piece of fabric left on the man’s body, removing that as well. He hurriedly took off his own clothes.

Worick sat in a straddle, his hands placed upon the man’s chest. He sat there in unsettling silence, his consciousness drifting to elsewhere. Gathering himself, he got up and sat down upon Nicolas’ length, the entrance sudden. He let out a shuddered gasp, but was intent on holding back any moans.

Even when Nicolas was dead, the Asian was the only one who made Worick feel like this. The gigolo slowly moved down and adjusted to the length. Spreading his arms out and clutching the couch cushion tightly, he called out his late lover’s name in a faint cry, “N-nic…”

_**Ten Minutes Later** _

Worick collapsed down on the naked and cold corpse’s chest in exhaustion, the two covered in fluid and a mixture of blood and seed. He rearranged the corpse so that they were entwined in an intimate yet tragic embrace, reaching back to the gun he dropped on his floor.

“Sorry for taking a while, Nic… I just wanted a bit of pleasure before I followed, y’know?” He murmured to himself. Cold metal nudged at his temple. Despite the situation, he wasn’t scared, but basking in the afterglow of glorious sex. One bullet was left, the one that’d take his disgusting life. In his eyes, it was nothing but a wild adventure that was bound to crash and burn. He had no regrets or thoughts— No, he had them, but they disappeared now that he was at the welcoming doors of death.

_Click._

The gun is cocked.

He pulled the trigger, and his grip on the weapon loosened as he opened the doors to hell welcomingly, his vision turning black with one last thought.

“ _I’m coming for you_.”

His lips mouthed the words rapidly as the man fell into sweet, bitter silence.

He wasn’t sure whether or not he was hearing correctly, but he heard the dulled sound of hurried steps drowned out by a gunshot and screaming.

It didn’t matter anymore.

He was already gripped tightly in the clutches of the blissful yet agonizing empty void of death.

**Sweet, wonderful death.**

**Author's Note:**

> Hahaha... I'm really fucking sorry... These are my weird necrophilia fantasies (don't worry I'm not actually like this since this was written by 2 A.M. Sinner-san and not normal Sinner-san ok).


End file.
